


transpose to daybreak

by silverskys



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Poetry, dozens of en dashes, it's just a poem my dudes, the formatting is important again. why do I keep doing this to myself, visceral description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24751348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverskys/pseuds/silverskys
Summary: like sadness, a heart's true love.suggested listening:nothing
Relationships: Isumi Haruka/Kujou Ten
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	transpose to daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> As this is (mostly) poetry, the formatting is vitally important. I wrote and posted this on my laptop, and I don't expect it to preserve very well for mobile. As such, I'm providing a [Google Drive link](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1KNDN6ua6-feBNA4gIHVgqiyjSacijLdLgQJVKdBc2jU/edit?usp=sharing) for any mobile users who would like to see what it's supposed to look like, assuming the formatting doesn't work out.  
> Might do that for all my fics, actually.
> 
> And as always, find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/eienseiriron).

    _You hate him._
    

Every cell of your body burns against him, disgusts him, repels away from him. If he's near you, you'll leap back, shifting and splitting, your neurons unraveling and tangling into dense, coarse knots. His voice sends waves through you, vicious, zealous, tearing your insides to shreds. Any mere thought of him cleaves thick slices through your core.

And yet you burn,  
wrench,  
strain with every _ounce of your power_ just as much  
toward him.

Some siren song of his has caught you, and any subtle curve of his finger, any _blink_ of his eyes pulls you in, your shackles rattling with rage, pain, fear, –

You can turn, you can run, but he'll always be there, unmoving, and you will never go far.

You are not free.  
You are not free.  
You are not free.

    ~~You hate him, and~~

He smiles at you. And then –  
You wake from another nightmare of him, another downy dream laced in poison, and his thick-lashed rosed eyes are branded into your vision. It's a lie, then.

The room smells faintly of sugar.

    ~~You hate him, but~~

He scowls at you. The world folds in around you, compressing into something flat and airless. But then _why_ –  
You hear his footsteps as he leaves. The sound sticks to you, weighty and gelatinous, and you hear every possible remix of its lilting, musical form at once. It's true, then.

The taste of mercury sits heavy on your tongue.

    ~~You hate him, so~~

It has happened without you realizing, and now it is happening all at once. Sparks in synapses, lightning in the air. The feel of asphalt against your shoe-soles, of sweat on your brow. You are running, and you are not running alone. You run to carve a path out of the sky, to prove your worth, to lead, to reach him.

    _You hate him, so he changed you._
    

Resentment bursts from its bud in an ugly froth of sharp-smelling petals. Every bone you have aches with the force, the impact. He is there, ahead of you, and you need to reach him. Fresh waves of long-buried pain wrack your limbs, the taste of blood in your mouth far past familiar. This you must see, you must hear, you must feel– to understand, it is necessary. Someday you'll be better than him. Someday he'll –

And yet  
and yet _and yet_ he still haunts you,  
hovering just out of sight.

The shackles that held you do not cry out, do not pull and twist you, do not tear your wrists raw, You are not who you once were, sniveling and choking on your own suffering.

It should be over–

You should be free.  
You should be free.  
You should be _free_.

  
  


    ~~He changed you, and~~

The breath of his voice sounds in a nearby room, muffled through the walls. Your heartbeat jumps at the sound, pounding painfully against your ribs. Something cracks, in your chest, _in –_

You shake your head, hair tossing loosely around your face. It was just your imagination.

    ~~He changed you, but~~

In spare moments, you catch yourself thinking of him. Not of the statue, the music box, but _him_ – what kind of person is he? What does he do in these same spare moments? What makes him so strong? _Does he think about –_

But when you catch yourself, furious, you push these thoughts aside. It's a waste of time.

  
  


    ~~He changed you, so~~

It comes to you all at once, shooting through the frigid air on a burning arrow. You're ablaze in an instant. Torn blossoms fall from your hands.

You need him. And you  
will always need him.

There is a space in your heart that is empty and rotting– where your hatred and fear and envy and unshed tears used to live, nested, warm. But that fetid, horrible mess _exploded_ , blowing a whole through your aching chest, blinding you with its force. And though that wound has healed, the space needs him.

    _He changed you, so you love him._
    

Sometimes you hear, faintly, the rattle of chains, but –

You are free.  
You are free.  
  
_You_ are free.

    _You hate him, so he changed you, so you love him._


End file.
